


A Helping Hand

by Silvyia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: All of the characters are in here btw, F/F, F/M, I just dont want to type up all of them lmao, M/M, this story is very smutty and has lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6944521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvyia/pseuds/Silvyia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>::DISCONTINUED!:: TheL3mon has adopted this story if you're interested in reading it on their page.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_((A/N! Please read!_ **

**_Hello and welcome to my Overwatch series, A Helping Hand! It mainly revolves around my OC, and how they interact with the characters, but some chapters will be about the characters themselves. You may request certain scenarios or things you want to see happen, and I will get to them!_ **

**_There will be a lot of smut in some of these chapters(there's even a little bit of self pleasure at the end of this very chapter lmao), and lots of swearing, violence, gore, mentions (and flashbacks) of abuse, and a lot of other shitty things, so if you're susceptible to any of those, I recommend you go read elsewhere._ **

**_If you're still here, then, please, enjoy!_ **

**_DISCLAIMER: I don't own Overwatch, or any of the characters! I only own the plot and my own OC!_ **

**_Warnings: Descriptions of blood and gore throughout the chapter, as well as a short sexual scene at the end of the chapter.))_ **

* * *

Lynn Taylor had always been a caring person. She was kind, selfless, and helped whoever she could help, whenever she could help. She gave everything she could to help those around her, and anyone who knew her, also knew of her kindness. Lynn always knew this about herself- she never once thought about herself before helping those with less. She prided herself on being a gentle person, and caring for every sentient being she came across.

But finding man, passed out and bleeding profusely from multiple wounds across his body, laying face down in the snow during her trip to the store in town was kind of pushing her limits.

Gasping quietly in surprise as she finally notices the wounded man- it was snowing heavily and she could hardly see ten feet in front of herself- she dropped her umbrella in shock. Only a moment of staring later, she rushes over to the bleeding person, kneeling down at their side the moment she was close enough to see the very clear torn clothing and red seeping through the holes, into the snow. There were deep cuts ranging in different sizes all across his body, though the largest one seemed to be right through the center of his chest, opening up in his back. Lynn gaped at the many wounds, _fresh_ wounds, and immediately began to move.

There was no way in hell she was strong enough to carry this heavy looking man herself, her small stature of 5'5 would give out in no time. She rushed back to her small cottage, only a small walk away, and began pulling out her rusty old wagon. Rushing back to the man, she began panting as she once again knelt by the body. She turned him over- with much trouble- and looked over the man's wounds once more. She was right about one thing- the heaviest and deepest wound would be the one across his chest, which seemed to have been a clean slice straight through his body. Lynn shuddered to think of who- or _what_ \- would do such a thing to this man.

Letting out a determined huff of cold air, she began pulling the heavy man by his arms into the rusted, faded red wagon. The wheels creaked in protest as his heavy weight landed atop it, pushing it deeper into the snow. Lynn stopped for a moment, catching her breath, before continuing to pull the man into the cart. Once his upper body and waist were thrown haphazardly into the red wagon, she began pulling the much heavier cart back to her home as quick as she could. If she could get to his wounds in time, he may live. Then again, Lynn didn't know if this man was still alive _right now,_ let alone in fifteen minutes. Still, she trudged on, her green and purple tinted umbrella long forgotten in the heavy snowfall. As she walked, she thought.

What could have done this to him?

Lynn was well aware that there were many wild animals living in the same, large forests that she lived in. Her small cottage laid at the center of the forest, the only spot of warmth in the cold winter storm. Animals came by from time to time, but she has multiple traps and the like set up around the area so she would know if any of the more dangerous kind showed up.

For instance- she laid out a thin wire above the ground, empty cans and metals tied to the string loosely. If anything were to knock into it, say, a bear, or a wolf even, it would alert her long before the animals could reach her, and she'd have time to prepare. Then, she glanced down at the beaten and bloodied man.

He hadn't set off the traps.

In fact, the traps hadn't gone off at all these past few days. While that was normal for the animals, as most were going into hibernation or were already long into their peaceful winter slumbers, how could this man had gotten here without setting them off? And how could he have been wounded without setting them off? Glancing at the cuts around his body once more, she furrowed her brows in concentration.

They could not be animal attacks. Animals were strong, yes, but they could not have done this. Whatever did this, did it with precision. They were quick, and ruthless in their fighting. She shuddered to even think of encountering such a being, and she felt pity for the man for having to go through with such a thing.

 _Then again_ , she thought, opening the front door to her cabin with her hips as she struggled to pull the wagon up the front steps, _he definitely looks like he knows how to defend himself_. True, the man was tall, well built, and even gave off the aura of being a strategic fighter. Combined with the mysterious tattoo over his left shoulder, spiraling down his toned forearm with an intricate pattern that ended above his wrist and down his hand...

Lynn was feeling a lot more cautious about the wounded man.

Nevertheless, she pulled him into her home, shutting the door quickly and pulling the wagon to the couch in the center of the living room, not even bothering with the snow coating both the wagon and herself- although she knew she'd regret it when she'd have to clean it all up later.

Huffing with strain once more, she lifted the man onto the couch. Or, rather, she lifted his upper body onto the couch, and vaguely threw his legs up there as well. Then, she started a fire in the cobble fireplace. She glanced at his almost blue tinted skin, and threw in a few more logs- for good measure. She shrugged off her heavy winter coat, toeing off her snow boots and throwing them carelessly across the room where, she hoped, was the mat at the front door. Running up the stairs, she grabbed what medical supplies she could find in her bathroom before rushing back down- almost tripping in her haste.

She would only stop to breath once she was kneeling beside the man once more, elevated slightly by the warm, brown couch he laid upon. A warm brown couch now coated in blood and currently melting snow. Wonderful. Then, she got to work.

Working as a medic for most of her life, even since she was younger, Lynn Taylor had learned to not be bashful when having to remove ones clothing for medical attention- but not even she could help the red tint on her face as she began peeling away the bloodied clothing. Taking a closer look, Lynn couldn't help but feel the garments were of a different culture. Either Chinese or Japanese, from what little information she knew of the cultures. There were intricate patterns all over the clothing, including the yellow and green ribbon tied into his hair- Lynn thought the designs were beautiful, and made a note of learning more of the culture of the artwork another time.

Once Lynn had managed to peel off the cloth around his shoulders and torso, she began cleaning the largest wound. The other wounds would have to be cleaned and tended to as well, but if she didn't work on this one first, then he surely would not survive.

After that was taken care of, a clean, white bandage rested securely around his abdomen, and she began to work on the other, smaller cuts.

Nearly half an hour later, Lynn was finished with tending to the man's wounds. Having placed heating packets against his arms and torso a while ago, with a hot towel draped across his forehead, she nodded approvingly at the quickly fading shade of blue of his skin. With its' color returning, Lynn was able to notice that his skin seemed to be slightly tanned, as if he spent most of his time out in the sun. _Sun kissed_ , she reminded herself. People would call it a "sun kissed" skin tone. Thinking on the name now, she did have to agree that the name suited it, as the man did look as though the sun had swooped down and kissed him.

And with those kinds of features, she couldn't blame the sun.

Laughing quietly at her own joke, Lynn gathered her equipment and began cleaning up the mess she and this unconscious stranger managed to make in such a short period of time. She put away the medical supplies, throwing the man's clothing into the laundry room- he currently laid in his underwear, and she still blushed every time she glanced at him- mopped up the quickly drying blood from the floor, and finally, replaced the warm towel and heating packs across his body. Sighing afterwards, she stopped next to her glass coffee table and glanced at the man.

She stared at the man's face, quiet. He was alive, and he was breathing. Quietly and shallowly, sure, but he was still breathing and alive, which was good. He really did have handsome features, Lynn realized. A strong nose, high cheekbones, a full set of lips- she blushed again. Curse her innocent mind. His hair was long, perhaps even reaching past his shoulders if it weren't for the yellow cloth tying it back, into a high ponytail. She hadn't taken that off when cleaning his wounds, as she saw no need to, but she was beginning to get curious on how long his hair was, exactly. The sides of his hair, and his neatly trimmed beard, were both showing signs of graying, and she wondered how old the man was.

Then, an idea.

Lynn grinned, setting down the large, ceramic bowl which currently held freshly heated water- for the hot towel, of course- and began jogging up her stairs once more. Honestly, Lynn would be surprised if she didn't lose any weight with how much running she was doing on these stairs in the last hour alone. Rushing to the last room in the long hallway, she began digging through her closet. In the back, to the left, was a bunch of clothing much too large for her. Her father's clothing. Whenever her father would outgrow his clothing, or simply no longer wanted them, he would send them to Lynn. All because she used to wear his shirts when she was younger. She used to think it was adorable, then it began to begrudgingly become somewhat of a tradition, as her father sent her clothing almost every Winter, almost as a reminder to stay warm. She grinned as she dug through her clothes, trying to find a pair that would fit this mysterious stranger.

She clicked her tongue once she landed on clothing that she deemed large enough.

Pulling out the plain black shirt almost three times her size, she slung it over her shoulder as she pulled out the dark grey jeans as well. These would have to do for the man, for now.

Walking back down the stairs, she began dreading having to dress him again. The task of having to lift him to pull the shirt over his head or to pull the pants over his legs were difficult, as she wasn't nearly as strong as he looked to be. She sighed once she got to the bottom of the stairs, deciding that it didn't matter. The man needed help, and, as long as she may live, she would help anyone who needed it.

So, she began dressing him once more- all the while ignoring her want to untie his hair, as that would be rude and pointless. Once dressed, she pulled back, glancing down at the man, now clad in her father's old clothing.

He looked good in black.

Lynn stifled a giggle, covering her mouth. Then she pulled it away, staring at her blue long sleeved shirt in disgust. There was blood all over her clothing. His blood. Lynn bit her lip to keep from visibly gagging. She hated blood, so much. The smell, the feel- especially having to taste it if you cut your lip or even bite your tongue. If anything, she even despised the color red. Lynn huffed, walking up the stairs again.

Fatigue finally began to settle in as the anxiousness of pulling a wounded stranger into her living room began to wear off, leaving her tired and aching all over. Her eyes felt heavier, and she clenched her teeth to stay awake as she began pulling off the dirtied clothing from her thin body.

Walking into her bathroom with a pair of shorts and a plain, dark grey shirt, a sports bra tucked under her arm as well as a pair of underwear, she avoided the mirror. She'd always been a humble girl, ever since she was young, but the one thing she never was being humble about was her own appearance. She was insecure about herself, she never liked her own body. She thought it was unfit, or plain, or even ugly if she was feeling very bad about herself.

At a height of 5 foot 5, and only weighing 130 pounds, she was small and thin. Not unhealthily so, but just enough to make her feel bad about herself. Her onyx black hair fell in waves down her back, reaching the curve of her back before stopping in slight curls. Brushing a hand through her wavy hair, she glanced into her own eyes in the mirror. Green and blue. Her eyes were the one thing she loved about herself. She always did think that the eyes told a lot about a person. How did the saying go? 'The eyes are the window to the soul' or something or another? She would have to agree with that phrase. Her right eye was a vibrant green, ' _like a forest_ ' her father would say. Her left eye was a dark blue-grey color, ' _like polished steel'_.

She sighed, continuing her short walk to the shower in the corner of the bathroom. Starting the water, she began peeling off her soaked undergarments as the water began heating itself. Dropping the wet clothes to the floor, she stepped into the shower. The tiles underneath her feet were already warm from the heated water, and she sighed in bliss as the hot water was a great contrast to the cold air of her home. Raising her shoulders to her chin, she curled into herself as she tried to spread the warmth all over herself.

After applying a thin coat of shampoo and spreading it across her head, she simply stood under the hot shower water for a moment or two- or several. She always lost track in the shower. She'd always loved the water- even before she knew how to swim. She had wanted to learn for as long as she could remember, but it wasn't until she was sixteen that she was really able to.

She paused under the water as the image of her family came to mind, before beginning to spread the water over her head, closing her eyes and breathing through her mouth as to not get water in her nose. She sighed once again, relaxing her tense shoulders and letting herself forget the memories.

The stranger came to mind.

Lynn opened her eyes only slightly, as if she would see the man before her when she looked- and honestly couldn't tell if she was disappointed or not when she was met with the empty grey tiles as she always was when in the shower. When realizing her lone presence, she closed her eyes once more, tilting her head up at the shower head, breathing slowly through her mouth as the water cascaded down her back and over her legs. The action caused her hands to fall to her neck, resting over her shoulders as she cupped her neck with her palms. Her wrists glided over her breasts, and she bit her lip.

One arm slowly glided down her neck, over the sensitive front of her throat, and down to her breasts. She circled the hardening bud slowly, almost teasingly.

When the hell did she get so turned on?

She didn't bother opening her eyes even as she continued to touch her own breasts. Slowly circling her index finger around her breast, she thought of the man on her couch. She inhaled sharply when pinching, and exhaled when rubbing the padding of her thumb over the now-hard pink bud. She felt an oddly familiar feeling of warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach, and she nearly bit her lip as one hand began gliding down her body, over her breast, down her smooth abdomen, circling around her belly, lower and lower, until-

Then she stops. Her eyes flutter open.

What was she doing? That man was wounded and stranded in a forest, alone and perhaps confused as to where he was and how he got there, and yet she had the audacity to- to- _please herself_ to the thought of him?

Almost as if sensing her shame, the water began turning cold from how long she had been in the shower. Lynn took in a shuddering breath, the warmth in her stomach dissipating with the sudden cold, and she hurriedly began washing the coconut smelling shampoo from her hair as she continued to mentally berate herself.

She stepped out of the shower after the shampoo was gone, and her body was clean. Drying and dressing herself quickly, she walked out of the bathroom, dirty clothes in hand. Dropping them off into the laundry room- where she reminded herself she needed to wash and stitch the man's clothing from before-, she began making her way to her bedroom.

She had been planning on going to the store earlier, as it's almost a full day's trek through the snow to get into town and back with supplies, but it was too late, now. It was well past noon, and Lynn thought about making some dinner. After her eyes began drooping once more, suddenly reminded of how tired she was from exertion, she decided that a nap was what she needed right now. After yawning and doing her routine stretches, she hopped into bed, shaking as if to dispel the cold as she settled herself down underneath the warmth of the blankets. After settled, she stilled, looking out the window to the left of herself as she lay on her side.

She could still see the patches of blood in the snow.

Narrowing her eyes only slightly, she once again thought of the man. How would she deal with him after he woke up? Would he wake up while she was asleep? What if he was a murderer- would he kill her in her sleep? Lynn shuddered at the thought, burrowing deeper into the blankets as if they could offer her protection from the pretend ideas of a murderer, though they did little else than offer her comfort and warmth in the middle of a heavy snow storm in Winter. She was thankful for that, at the very least. There was little else that would provide the same comfort as her own bed, and she didn't want any of it as she began drifting off. She fell asleep, with only one question on her mind.

_Who the hell is that man?_

* * *

_**((I hope you enjoyed reading it! I'm excited to write it for you guys! Comment with what you want Lynn to go through, or which characters to meet next, and I'll see what I can do to add them in! I tried to make it subtle, but fairly obvious who it was she found in the snow, but if you didn't get it, you'll just have to wait until next chapter!** _

_**Who is the mysterious man? Why did Lynn find him in the middle of the woods, in a snow storm? Why does Lynn not want to think of her own family? Why does she live so far away from the public?** _

_**Answer these questions in the reviews, and I'll give you a sneak peak of the next chapter~~!** _

_**Enjoy your day/night!))** _


	2. Chapter 2

_**((A/N: Hey! Thanks for the few reviews I got for the first chapter! This story got a lot more popularity than I thought it would- only in a few days, too! Anyway, a quick note to go over before you read this chapter-** _

_**Hanzo is canonly 5'8, but for the sake of this story(and the fact that I got a thing for really tall guys lmao) I'm making him two inches taller, so he's 5'10 in here. All this really changes is the fact that now he'd be about the same height as Genji(as Genji was taller than him by about two to three inches), but not much else canon wise.** _

_**Other than that, enjoy! Make sure to comment, they help me write!))** _

* * *

By the time Lynn had awoken, it was only just beginning to turn a light shade of blue out her window. The snow had stopped hours ago, it seemed, and the freshly piled on snow glistened with the rising sun.

Lynn was grateful to find out that the blood was hidden underneath the mounds of ice. She didn't feel like cleaning up a stranger's blood- at least, not any more than she already had.

As she glanced outside at the rising sun, she grinned. Jumping up out of bed, she rushed to put on her boots. After tying up her snow boots, she pulled on her overcoat, ruffling through her bedside drawers for something. After a moment of shuffling, she sighed in relief when she spotted it.

Pulling out her high-res camera, she tied the ends of the holster together, slinging it over her shoulder as she walked out her bedroom door. Jogging down the stairs, she rushed out to the porch, ignoring the sleeping man on the couch- until she got to the front door. She paused, blinked once, before turning around.

He was still there. The white wash cloth that once held hot water had fallen off in his sleep some few hours ago, as it now lay discarded on the floor, dried out. She relaxed once seeing his chest rise and fall steadily with each breath he took. He was still breathing. Staring for only a moment longer, Lynn reminded herself of what she got up to do in the first place. Lynn took a deep breath, and walked out through her front doors.

She shuddered as the sudden blast of cool air hit her warm skin. She was still in her white shorts and simple grey, long sleeved shirt from the other night, but wanted to take the picture before changing.

She took a deep breath of the crisp, winter air, smiling, and held up her camera.

Lynn had loved nature and its' scenery for as long as she could remember. She had always had a knack for the arts. When she was a young child, she began learning how to ink. After figuring out she had a knack for art, and she _loved_ it, she began learning as many arts and crafts hobbies as she could.

She learned how to paint- although she was never very good at blending colors correctly, she had always been much better with simple black ink.

She attempted learning to bake when she was younger, but while decorating may be considered an art, the actual baking was more of a science, in her opinion. She dropped the baking part, but decorating the baked sweets had been fun.

She'd started writing when she was roughly 16, and while she was told she was good at it, and she enjoyed it, she only ever did a few childish stories before eventually dropping the hobby.

There were many other artistic aspects that she had tried in her youth, but there were only thee that ever really stuck with her, even into adulthood. Inking, was one of those three. Coloring with many different ink colors was fun and thrilling, but hard work, so she usually stuck with black ink. Music was the second aspect she kept. She learned to play the guitar and the violin, and attempted to learn the piano- before dropping it some four to five years back- and the final aspect...

Photography.

Lynn brought the camera up to her right eye, closing the other as she twisted the lenses' focus, urging it to focus on the golden blue hues of the sky, casting beautiful streams of light to shine over the glistening white snow. She bit the edge of her lip as she knelt down on one knee, trying to capture the perfect image. The air was so still, the winter sky quiet, as Lynn took the picture.

That must have been why she was not expecting something to whiz past her at high speed.

Shouting in surprise, Lynn fell back onto her rear, still holding the camera as her shorts quickly became wetted with hurriedly melting snow underneath her. Looking up in the direction of whatever flew by, her brows scrunched up.

Then she sighed.

She couldn't believe she just got startled by a flying bird. She felt a silly for a moment, then a little bit angry at the bird for most likely ruining her shot, then she had an idea. Bringing the camera back up to her eye, she allowed it a moment to focus on the image of a beautiful bird with a black and blue body, small rivets of green shimmering over the feathers and underbelly as she snapped a photo of the small bird looking off into the sunset. Beautiful.

Taking the camera away from her eye, she glanced down at the image. She couldn't help but grin when she saw how the light shone and brightened the colors on the birds' feathers. Then she looked over the colors carefully, taking in its body and beak shape.

She clicked her tongue when she identified the bird. A Brewer's Blackbird, then. Beautiful things. She'd never seen one so up close before. Lynn glanced back at the bird, only to find it gone. The tree branch was empty, and small piles of snow had fallen to the ground. She shrugged. It must have flown away, breaking off chunks of snow as it leapt off the branch.

She got up, flipping through the camera's images and grinning when she realized the bird had not, in fact, ruined the image. If anything, the bird had made it better, as the center of the image was, in fact, the very same bird- its' beautifully purple-glossed wings were outstretched, making small rivets of sunlight stream through the feathers. She couldn't believe it wasn't even blurry!

Grinning like an idiot at the image, she turned to head back inside. She reached the door, finally looking back up as she walked through the front doors where her living room greeted her. Her smile fell.

Lynn only had a split second to realize that the man was no longer on the couch before there was a flash of silver and a cold, sharp object held to her throat.

She gasped, instinctively taking a step back to avoid the metallic object, which she could now see what a knife. Her kitchen knife.

"Don't, move," a voice growled beside her. She stilled as her heart rate picked up, her shoulders tensing and her fingers gripping onto her camera until they her knuckled turned white. Not turning her head, Lynn looked at the man from the corner of her eye. He was taller than she had previously thought, and he very obviously towered over her. He was panting slightly, his lips parted slightly as his shoulders continued rising and falling with each inhale and exhale, as if it pained him to simply stand up.

With his injuries, she didn't blame him. Although she simply had to question how he had gotten from the couch to the kitchen, taken a knife, and hid behind the door, all in the span of about one, one in a half minutes, maybe. It didn't take her that long to snap a quick picture.

His eyes were droopy, if only slightly, as if he was on the brink of passing out from sheer exhaustion right that minute. His brows creased, forming little wrinkles around his eyes as he focused on the girl.

"So," Lynn spoke, quiet at first, but quickly gaining back her voice. "You're awake, I guess."

He straightened slightly, becoming even taller, and closed his mouth. His eyes narrowed at her, and the knife was placed more securely at her throat, as if he was only now waking up.

"Who are you?" He spoke quietly. Now that Lynn wasn't too busy being scared shitless, she could actually hear his voice clearly. He had an accent- _Japanese_ , she thought. So she was right in assuming his clothing had come from somewhere foreign.

Lynn, despite her best attempts at keeping cool, was panicking on the inside. The one thing Lynn never liked about her own personality, was that when she panicked, she didn't exactly put a filter on what she said- she never thought something through before speaking. It was a natural response to being afraid- to try to not let her fear show. However, this manifested as cursing and probably a lot of insults, if she ever got that far in.

"Who the fuck are _you_?" She retorted, turning her head alone to glare up at him.

He obviously did not expect that, as he recoiled slightly at the tone of her voice. Lynn didn't waste a second in using the self defense strategies she had been shown when she was a teen.

She placed her right hand over the man's wrist, her left hand gripped the knife handle, and she pushed her two hands apart from each other quickly- and in one, fluid motion, she had pushed her foot out behind his leg, pushing him forward with her hands as he fell backwards over her leg. She almost wanted to smile at her victory...

..until she realized she hadn't won anything.

She definitely did not except this tall, built man to be so graceful, especially not right after waking up with severe, life threatening injuries- and yet, there he was, bending far enough to catch himself on his hands and somersaulting away from her, landing on his feet like a cat, crouched low to the ground.

A fucking graceful ass _handsome_ cat that looked absolutely _livid_ at her. He shifted his weight, bending down lower and narrowing his eyes. Lynn inhaled sharply, taking a step back, knowing full well what he was getting ready to do.

"Don't -" She couldn't finish her plea as the man let out a shout and ran forward in a full sprint, tackling her around the waist and practically breaking down her front door as the two fell down the steps, grunting from impact as the man landed over her, his hand pushing down her own arm which still held the knife, down to her throat. Her other arm was pinned beneath his knee, and she winced as she felt ice cold snow on one side of her body, and a large mass of weight pushing her down on the other side.

She coughed, attempting to regain the breath she had lost when he tackled her down the three stair-steps of her patio.

The man bent down lower, pushing the knife deeper as it began to cut the flesh on the side of her throat, a small trail of blood trickling down, as he glared into her eyes with fury she could only squeak at in terror.

" _Who. Are. You_?" He asked again, voice much lower than before, as he pronunciated each word slowly, as if talking to a child.

Lynn attempted to push the man's hand away from her throat, put the more she pushed, the deeper he pushed the knife, and she quickly learned to stop fighting with the armed man. She looked into his eyes, terrified at what would happen next. This fear really wasn't helping her calm down.

"The person who saved your _fucking_ life, you dipshit."

His eye twitched.

"What?" He asked. It was quite clear he wasn't asking for her to clarify, but simply because he didn't believe her.

"Which part of that sentence did you not understand?" She retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm she wished would go away already. She really hated herself right now.

The man narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth as he grimaced at the girl in obvious distrust. He had sharp canines, she noted. He did not back off, nor did he move the blade away from her throat in any way whatsoever. Her trapped arm was starting to go numb, both from the freezing cold she was experiencing all over the backside of her body, as well as the knee cutting into her arm, cutting off circulation.

"I wasn't in any trouble," he growled out. He reminded her of a caged animal, scared and ready to kill anything that got too close to him.

She narrowed his eyes at him, now confused. Did he not remember what happened to him? Did he not even _feel_ the pain he was undoubtedly in at the moment? Did he not feel the several cuts and lacerations all across his body? Did he not even recognize he was no longer in his own clothing? What the hell?

And yet, instead of voicing any of these, she simply bared her own teeth and responded, "Really? Then what the fuck do you call bleeding out in the middle of snow storm? Or is that an everyday thing for you?"

That really seemed to jog his memories, as his eyes widened just slightly and he recoiled as if he had been physically wounded by her words. His hold on the knife lessened little by little as his eyes lost their focus. He seemed deep in thought and Lynn could only assume he was probably remembering whatever had happened to him to have made him appear in her front lawn in the first place. Perhaps even whatever it was that hurt him so terribly. She hoped so. Being wounded and stranded in the middle of nowhere was already terrible enough as it was, but having been wounded and stranded in the middle of nowhere with no memory of how it came to be was even worse. She also hoped he would stop pinning her down.

Speaking of which...

Lynn inhaled deeply, which caught the man's attention, before using all her strength to let go of the knife and hitting the man in the side, where she knew one of his smaller wounds were. He winced and grunted in pain, dropping the knife altogether before Lynn used the moment of weakness to push him over and switch positions. She knelt over his stomach as he attempted to regain hold on the knife, but she simply held both hands down, forcing the knife upon his own throat and holding it there, as he had to her. She did not cut him, however, and knelt down to speak to him, staring him dead in the eye.

"I found you in the snow yesterday, at approximately 8:30 in the morning," she winced slightly as the feeling began to come back to her left arm, which had turned red a while ago. "You were bleeding out in the middle of a fucking snow storm, on my front porch. I had no idea who you were, and to be fucking honest, I still don't, but fuck if that keeps me from helping you. I took you inside and fixed up your wounds, and put you on the couch," she explained in one deep breath. She panted slightly when finished, and the man beneath her stopped struggling halfway through her explanation. His eyes were wide in shock, although Lynn couldn't tell if it was shock from the story or from how she had overpowered him. Perhaps both.

"So, yeah, I saved your life. Your fucking welcome," with that, she let go of the knife, letting it drop to the snow beside the man's head. "You sure as hell have a weird way of showing gratitude." She stood up.

Wincing at the numbed out pain in her legs, she began walking back toward her front door, touching her hand to the cut on the side of her neck, trying to gauge how deep it was and what she would need to patch it up. Over the years of her life, she had learned many helpful things to use in many a situation- medicine being one of them.

She didn't bother turning around when she reached her front door, as she could see his reflection in her - surprisingly- still standing door.

"Your welcome to come inside if you still feel like it."

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_**((A/N: This chapter wasn't as long as the first one, but I hope it's all right nonetheless! The next one'll be a bit longer, hopefully.** _

_**Why did Hanzo not recognize what had happened to him? Who, or what, was it that did this to him? Will he come inside, or will he leave? Will he apologize for being a shitty jerk face or nah?** _

_**Answer these questions in the comments to get a sneak peak of the next chapter!))** _


	3. Chapter 3

_**((A/N: First of all, thank you all for the favorites and follows! They make me feel so happy (:** _

_**To Kirash- Firstly, thank you for the compliment! And your English isn't so bad, y'know, you're doing very well with it. And finally- I actually have chapters written in advance before I update, which is why I updated so quickly haha.** _

_**Anyway, make sure to review, they help me write! Enjoy the chapter! I added a bit of bonding at the end u3u))** _

* * *

Lynn sat on the kitchen counter, carefully tending to her cut up arm. Small shards of sharp ice had made its' way into the snow out in the front yard, and while it was very beautiful as light bounced off of them in rivets of warmth, it didn't do all that much help to her bleeding arm which had been pinned against the ice shards forcefully.

She wasn't actually angry at the man for pinning her down, despite the idea she had most likely given him. In all honesty, she probably would have done the same thing he had. He was confused, wounded, and in an unfamiliar area. Not to mention in somebody else's clothing, with a stranger right outside. He was simply defending himself.

A shuffling could be heard to her side, and she didn't bother looking up to realize who it was.

The room was silent for a moment, as if he were waiting for her to turn and look at him. When she continued to tend to her own arms, packing away the medical tools she wasn't using, he sighed quietly.

"I apologize," he spoke quietly, voice full of regret and perhaps still a bit of anger. Lynn finally turned to look. He was bowing at the waist, hands clenched into fists at his side. She raised a brow at that, but said nothing.

"..for?" Lynn spoke, lowering her bandaged hand to her lap. He raised his head, looking into Lynn's eyes.

"For hurting you. I was confused, and could not remember where I was." Lynn furrowed her brows.

"Well I would certainly hope you wouldn't remember my home, especially considering I've never met you before," she joked, although there was a ring of truth to her words. She really did hope he hadn't been in her own home before.

The man straightened his back. "If we have never met, then why help me?" He asked, brows furrowed and eyes lowered as if in shame. Lynn was taken aback by his words, detecting no sign of sarcasm or joking in his tone of voice.

"Why help?" She repeated, mostly to herself, but the man nodded anyway. Lynn looked into his eyes. "Wouldn't you do the same?"

He did not respond, but he did straighten his back as if he was done apologizing to her, and Lynn took this as a sign to explain.

"My Dad always taught me to treat others the way I would want to be treated," she explained simply. "If I were wounded and stranded somewhere I didn't recognize, I would want someone to help me figure it out." She shrugged, looking back down at her arm. "Maybe not everyone is raised like that, I guess."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he spoke in a calm and quiet voice,

"That is a good philosophy to live by."

And then he went quiet. Lynn hummed in a halfhearted agreement. The room went quiet again, and Lynn couldn't help but think she should probably do something. It was _awkward_ as hell in here, and the silence wasn't helping. She perked up instantly, a thought coming to mind.

Hopping off the counter, she put all her medical supplies back into the white contained they came in, and walked over to the man. She passed him, box in hand, and made her way upstairs.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

She held up the medicine box, shaking it slightly as she walks up the stairs, "To put this away, I'll be right back."

After putting away the box, she came back downstairs to see the man sitting on the edge of the couch, hands still in fists. He was very tense, and judging by the far off look in his eye, he was thinking hard on something. Lynn cleared her throat, and he looked up at her quickly.

She offered a small smile. "So, uh, my name is Lynn Taylor," she offered lamely. She nearly cringed at how awkward she was being. She was used to helping people, but actually letting people into her home was another thing entirely. Her home was her sacred place, somewhere she never trusted anyone completely in. Even her father was watched closely whenever he entered her home- which he hardly ever did anymore. She hadn't seen him visit her in years. In fact, she hadn't seen him at all in years. If it weren't for the mail and the packages he'd send her every few months, she probably would have assumed he was dead.

The man perked up his head, recognizing what she was trying to do- even if she didn't- and nodded once. "Hanzo."

She blinked.

"No last name? Or do you just not trust me with it?" She was joking, really, but apparently it hadn't gone across that way with him. He furrowed his brows, clenching his hands tighter as if he were just personally assaulted.

"Shimada. Hanzo Shimada," he spoke slowly. It was obvious he really didn't trust her, not fully at least, and he was cautious about trusting her with his name. She didn't blame him. Lynn found there was a lot she didn't blame this man on.

Lynn nodded, then, turning to look at her busted door- which she could have sworn he had cringed when he noticed what she was looking at- she spoke up once more.

"Do you remember how you got here?"

Hanzo blinked, turning away. He was silent for a moment before responding, "No." He looked up at Lynn. "How _did_ I get here?"

"I don't know. I was serious about what I said, y'know," she nodded to the door, meaning when they had had their little... _tussle_ , outside. "I was going out to the store, and I found you, unconscious on my front lawn and bleeding like hell," Hanzo cocked his head at the odd phrase, but said nothing. "So I took you inside and patched you up." Then Lynn realized something. "Speaking of patching, I have yet to fix your clothes," she mumbled under her breath to herself. She doubted he could have heard her.

"My clothing?" He asked.

What was he, superhuman?

"Yeah," Lynn turned to him, only just now noting how he sat with his legs folded underneath himself. A Japanese custom, she knew. She had limited knowledge of other customs, Japanese included, but she did know a bit about them and their culture. "Your clothes were pretty badly ruined."

And then he looked down at himself. He only just now realized that she was, in fact, telling the truth- he wasn't wearing his clothing. She blanched at this. He could do a back flip right after being stabbed through the chest, but he couldn't realize when his clothing felt different? She really began questioning just how he had been trained.

Then she paused.

 _He was trained_.

He was a fighter, that much had been obvious, but Lynn hadn't thought too much into it. He was from Japan- she assumed, that is-... was he, a Ninja?

It would make sense, considering how quick he was on his feet, even after being severely wounded. Then again- what of his tattoo? The intricate design in permanent ink on his body, over his shoulder and spiraling down his arm- weren't tattoos considered a bad thing in Japan? The Japanese traditionally avoided inking their skins. Except for, of course, criminals and...

...

..

.

_Oh._

It clicked in her mind. His last name finally came to mind, and she was suddenly on full alert. He was from a crime family, specializing in organized attacks and assassination. Very bloody, very _ruthless_ assassination.

Suddenly, Lynn was regretting her helpful behavior. She really didn't need an assassin in her house at the moment.

Scratch that- she didn't need an assassin in her house, at all. Like, ever.

Assassins were always bad news for her. Lynn had met plenty of people who have had less than acceptable intentions, but at least she could trust that they wouldn't be able to go through with ending one's life. Life was precious, something to be saved and loved- not ended for a bit of money, or worse, for someone's sick pleasure. Lynn couldn't help but think of which one Hanzo probably did it for.

Hanzo, almost as if he could hear what she was thinking, sighed, and spoke, "I think I should go."

_Yes, please, leave and don't come back._

"You're wounded." Lynn really hated herself right now. Hanzo turned and looked at Lynn. There was no doubt in her mind that he could see her cautious and heavily guarded stance. He turned away.

"I'll manage."

When Lynn didn't say anything that time- she almost had to clench her teeth to stop from offering assistance to him- he got up from the couch. He turned to Lynn again and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, for your hospitality."

Lynn bit her lip as she furrowed her brows in worry. Assassin be damned, he would still get himself killed if he went out alone, when the closest town was miles away and he was wounded beyond belief. She was even certain the tussle from earlier had probably opened one of his wounds again, and his wince as he straightened himself out only proved it.

"Stay," Lynn spoke, surprising the both of them.

For a moment, they both went quiet. Then Hanzo turned, looking at her as if she had grown a second head suddenly. "What?"

"Just until you get better."

When Hanzo opened his mouth to argue with her, she continued speaking, "Your wounded, very, very badly. I don't know who, or what, did it to you, but I do know that the nearest town is almost thirteen miles away. That's more than a four and a half hour trek- that is, if you take no breaks- through the freezing snow, and it's bound to start snowing again, soon."

When he didn't respond, Lynn relaxed her posture, if only slightly, and sighed. "If you go out there, you'll end up stuck somewhere, or dying. Probably both," she rolled her eyes slightly, "so you should stay until you get better."

Neither of them spoke. Hanzo blinked at her, surprised most likely, before turning away to look at the front door, then down to the ground. Lynn shrugged,

"But it's up to you, I guess. I don't control you."

He didn't speak, and neither did she. After a moment of silence, Lynn turned and she walked up the stairs, quietly making her way to the end of the hallway where she knew the laundry room lay. Once there, she opened the door and sighed at the small pile of bloodied and torn clothing. She dropped her head, knowing that she'd have to clean and sow it back up, before bending down with a grumble and picking up his clothing, leaving hers on the floor. Her own clothes could wait until later. Then she made her way to her bedroom, where her sowing kit lie alone underneath her bed.

Criss crossing her legs while on the floor, she bent forward and dug her hand through the darkness under her bed, clicking her tongue when she found the small-ish red and green box. It had been a gift to her for Christmas when she was younger, as, at the time, she had expressed a lot of enthusiasm to learn how to sow. It was a pain, and she hated doing it nowadays as she normally did it out of need instead of a want, but it was a useful thing to know. Especially in case a strange, ninja assassin from an infamous crime family ended up on your front porch in the middle of a heavy snow storm.

Lynn had to stop for a moment, just to digest the information.

Yep, probably one of the weirdest things to happen to her in all her years of living- and with the family she grew up with, she had seen a shit ton of weird things.

So she began sowing his clothing.

About five minutes into sowing, Hanzo came up the stairs, looking around cautiously as he walked slowly. Lynn lowered the clothing and watched him as he walked down the hall, finally stopping at her open bedroom door. He glanced it, first locking eyes with Lynn before he turned and began looking around the room. She noticed how he had stayed in the doorway the entire time, and raised a brow in question, continuing her sowing.

"You can come in, y'know," she spoke, looking down at her fingers as she worked. And the clothing. The artistic designs in his outfit was beautiful, she had to admit, this assassin sure knew how to dress.

Hanzo stayed in the doorway.

Lynn sighed, but made no move to get up, nor do or say anything about it. "Or not," she mumbled under her breath.

Hanzo sighed heavily before taking a few steps into the room, standing stock still for a few moments as he took in the decorations and painted walls of her bedroom. Lynn had to admit, inviting a stranger into her home was tough, but she had gotten over it rather quickly- if anything, his presence was kind of nice, sans the whole "assassin" thing- but him coming into her bedroom was a bit too much. She kept her mouth shut, however, as she had been the one to invite him in. She cursed every spiritual being she knew the name of to hell and beyond for making her so kind and caring in nature. Why couldn't she have been a jackass? Then she would have had a more quiet life, with less people and less drama- and certainly a hell of a lot of nonsense she didn't want to put up with.

A few silent moments of steaming to herself, Lynn noticed Hanzo had sat down in front of her a while ago. He silently watched her work, sitting criss crossed like she was, his hands on his knees.

"How old are you?" He suddenly asked. Lynn nearly cursed when she pricked herself out of surprise. She straightened her back, leaning against the bed frame behind her and glancing at the man oddly. She lowered the needle and clothing as as she answered,

"Twenty four. Why?"

He hummed, keeping his voice in a carefully placed, stoic mask. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, or feeling, and this put her off. She was usually rather good at judging people's emotions based on their body language or expressions- even their tone of voice! But Hanzo never gave anything away, and she bit her lip in silent thought.

"You look much younger."

"Like a 'twelve year old' kind of younger, or what?" She asked jokingly, but then reminded herself on how every time she had tried joking with him before now had not, in fact, worked out all too well.

Which must have been why she was so surprised to hear him snort in amusement.

She paused in her work and glanced up at him, eyes wide with obvious surprise, but he simply turned his head away to glance around the room nonchalantly. She smirked, biting her lip again as she held in a chuckle at him trying to hide his amusement. Lynn looked back down at the cloth, simply staring for a moment as she traced the intricate designs with her mind. She furrowed her brows.

"Where are you from?" Lynn asked. Hanzo's shoulder stiffened and she knew she probably brought his guard up once more- although she wasn't entirely certain when he had let it down.

"Why?" He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, still turned away.

"Just trying to strike up a conversation, although I'm not very good at it, I know," she laughed nervously, "So you'll have to excuse my poor excuse of being a sociable person."

He seemed to think over her excuse- which was half true, she really was trying to start a conversation with him, although it was more of a chance to get closer to him. Stay close with your friends, but stay closer to your enemies, right? Lynn didn't particularly want to consider Hanzo an enemy, but she certainly didn't trust him.

"Japan. Where are you from?" He answered. Lynn wasn't certain if she was surprised of his honesty or not.

Now she wasn't certain she wanted to answer. "Eh... all over the place, really," she answered anyway.

At Hanzo's curious glance, she shrugged nonchalantly. "What do you mean?"

She hummed as she thought. "Well, my dad used to work in the military, and his job made him constantly move all the time, so we moved with him. We moved houses practically every summer, in a bunch of different states and countries. So, I grew up all over the place, but I was originally born in the state of Idaho." Lynn couldn't really understand why she would be so honest with him. She was never this honest with others- not to say she would _lie_ to others, per se, she simply didn't like other people to know so much about her.

Hanzo hummed in response, and the room went quiet once more. Lynn guess he wasn't very talkative, then. _Then again_ , she mused, _neither was she._

Hanzo was, once again, the first to break the silence. "Do you have any family? Other than your father?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. She knew she shouldn't have brought up her father, it was, of course, going to attract his attention.

"Yeah," she answered anyway. "Lots of siblings."

At this, his eyes went downcast. He suddenly seemed very upset about something, and Lynn thought of whether to ask the question on her mind.

She asked anyway.

"Do you have any family?"

"No," he answered almost immediately. "Not anymore."

She could recognize the clipped tone of his voice. It would have been rather difficult to forgot the tone she usually took to whenever she was asked of her family, and she was used to using it, herself.

"Ah. I'm sorry."

Neither of them spoke after that.


	4. Chapter 4

_**((Sorry this is such a short chapter, it's barely even up to 1,500 words long ): I will try to make the next one even longer, though! I just wanted to get this out quick to tell you the following; I'm so sorry for my delay, and I'm sorry to say but I will be gone for a little while longer! I don't know if any of you read my other story, Innocence Lost, but if you do you already know why I've been gone for so long. My PC broke down and my Windows file got corrupted, so I lost all of my work ): However, I got up and continued, for you guys! I'll be away for a little while trying to update the rest of my stories and finish my work, but I will be back in a few weeks' time! I may even update sooner if I get enough motivation for it uwu** _

_**I thank everyone who reviewed! They were all great, and rest assured, they all made me smile like a total dork! Thank you so much you guys!** _

_**Also- I may not be on here often for a few weeks, but I will always be on my main tumblr account, ArtisticAssassin. I also have a RolePlay blog for Overwatch, called MultiColoredRP. On my RP blog, I play as my OC, Lynn Taylor, and I will RP with anyone(oc's included!), and it also includes Lynn's backstory on the Guidelines page. So go check out my stuff!** _

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter uvu))** _

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By the time Lynn had finished sewing the man's clothing up, he had fallen asleep again, downstairs and on the same couch as before- although it wasn't as if she had any other couch for him to fall asleep on. It was a good thing he was sleeping. He would heal better now that he wasn't jostling his wounds around so often, although Lynn would have preferred she had fed him some kind of food before he fell asleep. That would have helped.

But as she walks down the hall on the upper level of her home, her eyes sneaking a glance at the mysterious man who lay on his back, hands folded atop his stomach as he rests, she supposes it could have been worse.

 _Could be a hell of a lot better, too_ , she reminds herself.

She scoffs and makes her way to the washing room once more.

His clothes may be sewn together, but it was still bloodied and had started to smell from the snow and water mixing in with the crusted blood. Disgusting.

As she stuffed the clothing into her washing machine- usually she would hand wash them, to make sure to get out the stains, but she can't necessarily do that in this kind of weather, she would have to wait until the snow melts and it gets warmer.

She remembers her camera. Had she left it outside? She had had it on her person when ' _Hanzo'_ had woken up, and she couldn't recall exactly if she had had it on her when he _tackled her to the ground,_ which, yes, she was still rather bitter about- even if it was partly her fault. It was also partly his fault.

...No, it was mostly his fault.

But back to the camera.

She tossed in the correct amount of soap for the small load- his clothing along with a few of her own clothing she had been meaning to wash for a while- and started the simple machine. Then, sighing as the machine began rumbling quietly, she headed downstairs.

She passed the sleeping man, glancing at him silently as she made her way out of her house.

Her door was royally screwed, that's for sure. The hinges had practically been torn from the door's frame, and she grumbled under her breath when she realized that she would have to get that fixed.

She walked past the door, glancing down at the floor as she walked.

There it was.

Her camera was further out in the snow, next to the few drops of blood- _her blood_ \- and in the worst condition she had ever seen it in. It was smashed into the ground, the photos that had been clipped to the side were torn and strewn about the yard, and she could feel a sinking feeling in her stomach when she realized that it was broken. Perhaps even beyond repair this time.

She jogged over to the small device, falling to her knees, rather dramatically if she does say so herself, and picking up the camera gingerly. A few pieces fell from the camera as she lifted it, and she bit the edge of her lip.

Yes, it was broken beyond repair.

"Is it important to you?" Lynn didn't even bother being surprised. Of course he wasn't really asleep. Of course he would sneak up behind her, _again_.

"It was a gift," she answered quietly. She cleared her throat, falling back to rest on her legs, and spoke up once again, "It was a gift from my sister... before I moved out here, I mean."

He didn't respond, except for the silent crunching of snow as he took a few hesitant steps forward.

"I'm... sorry, then."

She stood up. "Don't be."

Lynn stuffed the camera into her messenger bag by her side, softly collecting the pieces that had fallen and carrying them in her hand. She turned on her heel, facing the man from before.

"Wasn't your fault," she mumbled before walking past him, back inside the house. Yes, it was. It certainly was his fault, but she didn't need to say that. She was a pleasure- she liked to make people happy and make them laugh, guilt and sadness were never good looks on others.

If Hanzo disagreed with her, he certainly didn't make it obvious. He said nothing as he turned quietly and followed her back into the house. He glanced at the door with belated guilt. Oh, yeah, that had been his fault, wasn't it?

"You should probably eat something," Lynn's voice spoke up from somewhere up the stairs, and she swears she's never had to go up and down these steps so often in so little time before. She was already thin as it was, she was practically going to be a twig after she was done handling this man. He certainly was a handful. Or an armful. Or _two_ armfuls.

He was trouble, that's for sure.

Hanzo hummed in a half hearted acknowledgement, but he made no move to head to the kitchen. It would probably seem rude to dig through her pantry or fridge for food, even if she had said to go ahead and do that exact thing.

"I mean, I don't have a whole lot of food. It was just me here, after all, and I was actually on the way to the store when I found you, so I'm kind of low enough as it was, and I never went shopping..." Her voice trailed off as she moved about upstairs. Perhaps she was trying to fix her camera, one would assume.

But he didn't really care about that.

"I could go," he offered, glancing at the stairs where he heard her last.

"Uh- you're still hurt. I already told you, it's too cold out and you're too wounded, and the trip is too long, and you'd never make it," her voice became more distant as she moved further away from him upstairs. He made a move to follow, creaking up the stairs as quietly as the old house would let him- which wasn't very quietly, by the way, and Hanzo kind of felt like that wasn't an accident on the woman's part.

"I would be fine," he responds, following the silent shuffle of footsteps. She was in her bedroom, then.

"No, you-" she was abruptly cut off as she appeared in her bedroom doorway, colliding with the man. Letting out a quiet grunt on impact, he reached forward and laid his hands over her shoulders, steadying her before she had the chance to fall.

She inhaled sharply, taking a step away. The man was quick, and was certainly a lot better in health than she assumed at first, where she thought he would fall apart easily. She was-pleasantly? - surprised. "Uh, thanks," she mumbles. He nods. She glances up into his dark brown eyes.

 

"This doesn't change my mind, though."

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**_((So, as the A/N above says, sorry it's so short! I will make it up to you! In a few weeks, when I get back, though... .''_ **

**_Leave lots of reviews, especially telling me what you want to see more of, or things you want to see Lynn go through, and I may use them!_ **

**_Ciao!))_ **


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